


that's amore

by reversetheuniverse



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Enemies to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversetheuniverse/pseuds/reversetheuniverse
Summary: Riley doesn’t intend on making any enemies when she starts working at the restaurant.It just sort of . . .happens.
Relationships: Riley Matthews/Farkle Minkus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	that's amore

**Author's Note:**

> **anonymous asked:**
> 
> _would you like to ever do a riarkle enemies to lovers fic? because i've seen only like 2 enemies to lovers riarkle fics and i think it'd be really cool to see them in a different dynamic_

Riley doesn’t intend on making any enemies when she starts working at the restaurant.

It just sort of . . . _happens_.

She’d like to think she has the supposed “Big Five” personality traits on lockdown—she’s a very agreeable person, incredibly open with others, positively extroverted, astute in conscientiousness, and her neuroticism . . .

Well, she could maybe stand to work on it a bit, but can she be calm? Absolutely.

There’s just something about Farkle Minkus that makes her want to drive a spork into her leg, though.

It’s a weird sort of dichotomy they form together, despite not being too different from one another. They hold the same sort of power in the restaurant—she’s a host, he’s a busser, and they both get paid minimum wage. While she guides the guests around the restaurant, he cleans up tables and spills, and there should be no reason for the animosity that they harbor for another.

If you ask Riley, she’d chalk it up to her first busy night at the restaurant. The night had bogged her down as she ran around the restaurant, seating guests and refilling anything they needed if she happened to be passing by them. At one point, she’d been asked to help bus tables—something she _knew_ she’d be awful at—and he’d strolled up to her while she was trying to pick up plates, taking them from her grasp forcefully.

“Look, if you’re going to help, then actually do something useful. You’re moving about as slow as a turtle and it’s infuriating,” he had grumbled to her. “Why don’t you go be a good host and greet people with a fake smile and annoying personality?”

Yeah, that’d cinch the nail in the coffin for anyone, she assumes.

How _dare_ he say she had an annoying personality! She was a freakin’ _charm_ to have around, and most of the people working at the restaurant already got along with her. Why was it so hard for him to accept that fact?

Riley didn’t wish to dwell on it, so she didn’t. But she did make enemies with Farkle that night, point blank.

//

“Hey Minkus, mind bussing those tables I asked you to bus twenty minutes ago?” Riley calls into the headset. She’d been fed up with another busy night, and Farkle’s attitude was not cutting it for her. She nearly startled when he rounded the corner, though, his permanent look of disdain greeting her.

“You know, bussers don’t just clean tables. In fact, they actually have to listen when managers ask them to do other tasks around the restaurant,” he says, adjusting the sleeves of his black button-up that he had pushed up his forearms.

“And you know I need tables, yeah? We’re on a wait,” Riley argues back. He gives her one last glare before disappearing back into the dining rooms, and Riley hears someone whistle behind her back.

“You know you egg him on just as much as he does you, right?” Maya, one of the servers who’s quickly become her best friend at the restaurant, tells her, leaning against the host stand. Riley shakes her head.

“Not true. He started it, anyway!”

“And you can’t let bygones be bygones?”

“Why on earth should I do that?” Riley asks, incredulous. Maya shrugs.

“I dunno. Besides the fact that the two of you have undeniable chemistry? Or similar personalities? Or the same friend groups around here?”

“What do you mean ‘undeniable chemistry’? We hate each other!” Riley exclaims.

“We often harbor love under the guise of hatred,” Maya states, earning her a disgusted expression from Riley.

“Don’t you have tables to serve?”

“After your boyfriend cleans them up, yeah.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!!” Riley shouts after her friend as she leaves, the sound of chuckling fading off around the corner.

//

“So Zay calls out and you’re the _only_ person who can fill his role as a host?” Riley asks Farkle, exasperated. It’s a little strange to see him sans apron, standing at the host stand like he’s the same level as her.

He’s _not_.

“Imagine, being ungrateful that someone was able to pick up his shift so you wouldn’t be on your own. Are you always this disagreeable in the morning or is that just how you are normally?” he counters.

Riley moves to continue their argument, but guests wander up to the host stand, so she drops it for the sake of doing the job she’s being paid for. She insists on seating them in the system and then guiding them to their table, sure that Farkle will mess it up somehow. When she returns, he’s got a smug grin on his face that causes her blood to boil.

“What’s the face for?” she prods.

“Well, if I didn’t have one it’d be quite disturbing, frankly,” he snarks back. Riley would throw things at him, if she didn’t have to keep her cool for the sake of the job.

“What’s the face for?” she tries again, this time more forcefully.

“I like that you won’t let me do anything. I could make your job ten times easier by seating tables for you, but you _insist_ on taking care of everything. Are you really that stubborn?”

“Kettle meet pot,” she huffs, turning away from him with arms crossed and nose stuck high in the air. He simply laughs and the two of them return to silence soon after, refusing to engage any further in conversation for the rest of their shifts.

//

The restaurant holds a potluck for Thanksgiving two days before the actual holiday. It’s a tradition set by the general manager that a lot of people enjoy engaging in, and after further convincing from Maya, Riley decides to attend. Besides, Lucas is going to be there, and she _may_ have the smallest, tiniest of crushes on him.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter.

Riley does prepare a dish at the behest of Maya (Maya could probably goad her into anything at this point, really). She wants to do macaroni and cheese, but when she hears that Darby is going to she attempts to figure something else out, but Maya reassures her.

“Darby makes it from the box,” she explains, “And it’s always the _worst_. I love her, but she finds a way to ruin even the simplest of foods.”

“So it’s really okay if I make macaroni and cheese? My grandma really does have an awesome recipe for it . . .”

“Riley,” Maya says, stern, “I think I speak for everyone when I say _please_ , for the love of god make that mac. We need quality mac this year for once.”

She doesn’t work that day, so Maya tells her she’ll pick her up right before the potluck. Riley sleeps in and then spends the rest of her hours preparing the macaroni and cheese fresh, spending a little bit of the extra time for showering, dressing, and maybe putting on a little bit of makeup.

Riley pulls the dish out of the oven with a minute to spare, grabbing a box to hold it in so it doesn’t burn her and the rest of her things, heading out the door when she receives a message from Maya telling her that she’s waiting outside. She pulls together all her things and makes a mad dash for the door, joining her friend inside the car so that they can drive off to their workplace.

Riley has to admit she’s a bit nervous—she’s been working there only a couple of months, and while she does get along with everyone, she knows she’s still new, still not quite a perfect fit in this little carefully constructed family. She hopes that this will aid to ease her anxiety and make her feel a little more solidified in their group and that she’ll just have a good time in general. This job . . . she’s grown to care for it, more than she’d care to admit.

They pull up outside the restaurant and Riley jumps out once they’ve parked, grabbing her macaroni and cheese and tailing behind Maya once she’s retrieved her own dessert from the back seat of the car. The doors click as they lock and the two of them walk inside, Maya with confidence and Riley a tad skittish behind her. They greet the two hosts manning the front, having to miss out on the celebration for a moment, and then head towards the back dining room where their party is taking place.

“Maya! Riley! Glad you two could join us,” their general manager Jon greets them. “You two can go ahead and set your food down at the tables over there and we’ll get ready to eat in a few minutes.”

They nod and do as they’re told, Riley splitting off from Maya to set her food on the table closest to her while Maya sets her dish down on the dessert table. She waits to take cue from Maya, embarrassed to be tailing her like a dog, but shakes the feeling as Maya takes a seat at one of the booths. Riley joins her, realizing one moment too late that Maya’s chatting up Farkle Minkus of all people.

“You bring anything for us, Minkus?” Maya asks, engaging him in conversation. Farkle snorts.

“God _no_. The last thing we need is me exploding a kitchen from my poor cooking skills. There’s a reason I’m a busser and not on the line.”

“Don’t you have a cook or something rich people can afford who can do things for you?” Maya snarks.

“Would you laugh if I say yes?” Farkle sighs, earning him a cackle from Maya.

Riley tries to restrain her curiosity, but it’s already been piqued—if Farkle is rich, then why is he working as a busser at a chain restaurant?

Whatever. Riley doesn’t care.

She spends the rest of Maya and Farkle’s conversation on the outside listening in, not really wanting to participate in conversation with Farkle because he’s, well, _Farkle_. Maya seems to respect her feelings, not pestering her to join, and for that Riley is thankful. She just waits in her seat patiently, ready for the eating portion of their get-together to start. Unfortunately, she has to wait another fifteen minutes for that, but half-way through she gets distracted because of Lucas’ appearance, trying her best to work up the courage to talk to him. He’s still in his work uniform—black button-up and black work pants, the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm—and it shouldn’t work for him but it _does_.

Right as she finally rises from her seat, deciding that she _will_ talk to him, their general manager announces that it’s time for them to eat. He pulls them all into a quick little prayer before allowing people to start grabbing food, and by then Lucas is caught up in his own conversation with the people he’s friends with at work. Riley sighs, giving up as she joins Maya and Farkle at the buffet line their manager put together. She piles the food on her plate and then sits back down at their little booth, uncharacteristically quiet as Maya and Farkle sit back down.

“Okay, I swear to you that Yogi’s changed the recipe for this green bean casserole. It actually tastes good this year,” Maya says.

“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t do mushrooms,” Farkle tells her, wrinkling his nose at it.

“Do you not like mushrooms either, Riley?” Maya asks her, finally inviting her in to start talking. Riley shakes her head.

“No, I just don’t really like green bean casserole.”

“Holy shit,” Farkle interjects through a mouthful of food, “Darby’s really stepped it up with the macaroni and cheese. This stuff tastes like _heaven_.”

Riley stops, her mouth dropping open in surprise at his words. Maya’s mouth turns upwards into a brilliant, shit-eating grin that Riley just wants to wipe off her face but knows she can’t. It’s too late; the damage is done.

“That’s because Darby didn’t make it,” Maya tells him, the excitement unrestrained in her voice, “Riley did.”

Farkle registers her words, his chewing slowing down as realization dawns on his face. She half-expects him to spit it out, to retract his statement or do something else drastic, but he doesn’t. He swallows the mouthful of macaroni and cheese, sets his fork down, and meeting Riley’s gaze says, “This is really, _really_ fantastic macaroni and cheese, Riley. Some of the best I’ve ever had. Good job.”

Riley will admit, she didn’t think Farkle would be the one to extend the olive branch between the two of them, but he does it all the same. She recognizes that her response to him will make or break the situation, but she’s not one to drop a compliment, especially one that has her blushing furiously. She can’t control it, not really, and she definitely can’t control the bashful smile that graces her face, so what the hell.

“Thanks, Farkle. I’m glad you enjoy it,” she tells him sincerely, her words startling him, too. But then he beams a grin back and Riley knows she can no longer be mad at him, not after that.

_Damnit._

//

Friendship with Farkle after Thanksgiving is practically _flawless_. Riley doesn’t want to tell Maya she’s right because Maya will hold it over her for the rest of forever, but Riley and Farkle really do have a lot in common. He makes it easy to be his friend, so much so that she forgets she was ever mad at him and that she didn’t like him at all. They spend a good portion of their day complaining about someone or something from work and when they aren’t talking about that, they’re talking about outer space or their favorite tv shows or just _anything_.

It’s kind of ridiculous, but then again, Riley absolutely loves it. It makes working at least ten times easier now that they get along, but if anyone notices it, they don’t mention it aloud. The restaurant moves on with its day as if nothing has changed, but Riley is privy to the shift.

Regardless, their friendship is still brand new, still hanging on by a tumultuous thread. It’s something Riley can’t quite define, but it feels like the foundations are still shaky, like there’s something else that rests in the air between them when their conversations reach a lull during a slow day.

Maya voices her opinion on the subject after Riley mentions it while they’re getting ready for a costume party Sarah’s holding ( _“Halloween in December,”_ Sarah tells Riley, _“It’s kinda my thing.”_ ) Maya’s finished putting on her sexy ringmaster costume and has moved onto applying her makeup while Riley tries to wrangle and curl her hair into submission.

“It’s because you _like_ him,” Maya tells her, working on her winged eyeliner with Bobby Fisher-like intensity.

“What? No I don’t,” Riley insists. “Farkle and I _just_ became friends.”

“And this is supposed to deter my opinion on that? I already told you before that you had undeniable chemistry. But now you two actually get along, so now you can’t hide it.”

Riley has half a mind to make Maya mess up her eyeliner, but she’s not cruel. She’ll just remain disgruntled about the matter for the rest of the night.

Maya helps Riley with the rest of her angel costume after her hair is curled completely, and once they’ve pulled Riley’s wings on, they grab their things and leave Maya’s house. Maya drives them to the party and when they pull up, Riley has to admit that while she knew a lot of people were going to attend the party, she didn’t know _this many_ people would be here. Cars line the empty space around Sarah’s place and partygoers are already hanging out on the lawn, enjoying themselves as the music blasts from inside the house.

Riley feels a nervous energy course within her as they walk up the sidewalk to the house. She’s excited for the party, she really is, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t anxious about it, too. All of that washes away the moment she and Maya step inside, their friends greeting them happily and complimenting their costumes.

“Oh my god, you guys finally made it!” Zay exclaims, a wide grin on his face. “Those costumes are dope as hell!”

“Thanks, of course they are,” Maya says, winking at him slyly. “But what are you supposed to be?”

Zay flashes his teeth, revealing a set of pointed fangs on the top and bottom.

“Teen Wolf!”

“That is both lame and fantastic,” Maya laughs, then turns to search the room. “Farkle here yet?”

“Yeah, last I saw he was playing beer pong with Lucas and couple of others. Why don’t you two get some drinks and then we’ll head that way,” he suggests. Maya nods and they follow him to what Riley supposes is the kitchen. He mixes them up a couple of drinks and hands them off to them, chuckling when Riley sniffs hers and scrunches her nose in disgust.

“Jeez, how much alcohol did you put in this, Zay?” she asks.

“Enough. Now drink up and let’s go, Matthews!”

She sighs and gives in, stealing a sip as they make their way to where Farkle and Lucas are. She almost gags at the pungent liquor smell again but drinks it anyway. It’s a good thing, too, because when they find the supposed beer pong tournament, it’s not Lucas who has her heart racing.

“Maya,” Farkle greets her when he spots her, but when his gaze lands on Riley, he practically beams. “Riley! I’m so glad you could make it!”

Words seem to fail Riley right now. She’s not sure why she’s feeling so off but seeing Farkle dressed as gladiator has sent her off-kilter. He looks so damn _good_ in his costume and she starts debating whether or not she should abandon the drink Zay gave her altogether if it’s making her act like this.

“Hey, Farkle, good to see you, too,” she finally manages awkwardly, huffing in embarrassment before backing her drink like there’s no tomorrow. So much for abandoning it.

 _“Whoa,”_ Maya gasps, rushing over to Riley’s side, “What are you doing?! I thought you told me earlier you were going to take it easy.”

“I lied. Wanna make me another drink? I’m gonna need it,” she insists, ushering Maya back to the kitchen. As soon as they’ve made it, Maya shakes Riley off of her, glaring at her.

“What the hell was that about?!” she yells. Riley opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again as she goes through the five stages of grief in her mind. After a moment of silence and Maya waving her hand sporadically in Riley’s face to bring her back to earth, she says,

“I couldn’t be there anymore. I need more alcohol if I’m going to get through this night.”

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this? You were fine until we—” Maya pauses, then realization dawns on her face, _“Oh!”_

“Maya—”

“Holy shit, you don’t wanna go back there because you think Farkle looks _hot_ in his costume. This is _hilarious_.”

“No it’s not! I don’t have feelings for him, I just think he looks . . . _really good_ ,” Riley tries, but Maya’s already grinning like an idiot.

“Now we _have_ to get back there. I’m going to try so hard to set the two of you up it’s not even funny.”

“I don’t need your help! I don’t wanna be set up!” Riley exclaims, but it’s too late. Her decision has been made.

“I’ll make you a drink and then I’m gonna get you alone with Farkle. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

Riley groans, knowing she’s fighting a losing battle.

She does loosen up a bit after she’s finished off the second drink, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna give into her friend’s plan.

And Maya does follow up on her promise despite Riley’s every effort to make it hard for them to be alone—after many failed attempts, she forces them in a spin the bottle circle. Riley only agrees to it because she’s borderline drunk and doesn’t care about a quick kiss with anyone, but when she finds out that whoever the bottle lands on is sent to the closet for seven minutes in heaven, she tries to run.

But it’s too late.

Maya’s spinning skills are off the charts, the bottle ends landing between Riley and Farkle. Everyone whoops and hollers at them except for Riley and Farkle themselves, but they still go follow the rules begrudgingly, allowing themselves to be shoved into a closet for everyone else’s entertainment.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Maya’s muffled yell erupts from beyond the closed door. Riley sighs.

“You know we don’t _have_ to do anything in here, right?” Farkle tells her. “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Really?” Riley asks, spinning to turn and look at him, but that ends up being a mistake. She’d misjudged just how small the closet was, and she ends up pressed against him, his arms gripping her biceps when she stumbles a bit from the alcohol.

Whatever words Farkle wanted to say have since died on his lips, if his comically large eyes were anything to go by. Riley knows she’s gone though when she finds herself lost in the stormy gray irises of his, her brain actually entertaining the thought of kissing him.

 _It wouldn’t be so bad if I did, right?_ her brain asks her.

 _Right,_ her heart agrees.

Testing a theory, Riley’s hands rise to rest gently against Farkle’s cheeks. His breath stutters as soon as her fingers grace his skin, and she knows there’s no going back when she glances at his mouth before leaning in.

 _This is such a bad idea,_ she tells herself, _But I don’t think I care enough to stop it._

Right when mouth is only centimeters away from Farkle’s, close enough that she can feel his breath ghosting her lips, the closet door swings open. Farkle and Riley jump apart, and whatever spell befell her has washed away, leaving confusion in its wake.

“Alright you two, get out so the rest of us can have some fun!” someone shouts. Riley nods and ditches Farkle, grabbing Maya by the arm and tugging her outside urgently.

“What the hell, Riley?” Maya grumbles as soon as they stop in what Riley deems is a quiet area.

“I think I have a crush on Farkle. I have a crush on Farkle, don’t I?” Riley asks.

“No shit,” Maya says, rolling her eyes, “You kind of made that abundantly clear tonight. But after all that hard work I went through you didn’t even follow through!”

“How can you tell?” Riley frowns.

“Because your lipstick is still perfectly fine, red as can be. If you kissed him, it’d be smudged and all over his mouth. Plus, I don’t really think Farkle would’ve survived it. I think he’d probably need to sit down for the next century in order to process it all.”

“You’re the _worst_ ,” Riley whines. Maya pats her shoulders sympathetically.

“I know, Sunshine. I know.”

//

Riley’s never been one to know how to act around crushes, but her crush on Farkle has rendered her absolutely neurotic. She still talks to him, of course, but she has a harder time starting conversations. What would he even want to talk about? Does he even _want_ to talk with her?

It’s Riley’s favorite pastime, going into the land of overthinking. She excels at it a little too well.

After two weeks of utter turmoil and downright awkward interactions with Farkle, she thinks that maybe she’s just eternally hopeless. Whatever she might feel for Farkle doesn’t matter, because she can’t even figure out how to just _be_ around him. She may as well just quit while she’s ahead and just give up on the hopes of ever being near him again.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t get that option.

Her manager suggests one morning that Farkle help her unload the boxes of wine they just got in, and when Farkle asks if she wants help, she says _yes_. Normally, she’s used to unloading it all on her own, but the thought of spending quality time with him is just too tempting to pass up and her brain is just dumb dumb _dumb_.

The restaurant is quiet as they unload each case of wine, save for the never-ending music selection on repeat with eight versions of the same five songs. But it’s nice, sharing a moment with him where they don’t have to talk about anything, just stock wine in the coolers.

Nice, of course, up until their fingers brush up against one another’s, sending electricity coursing straight through Riley’s system. She wonders if he feels it, too, but she doesn’t have to worry any longer when his gaze finally meets hers, the shock apparent on his face. They endure a long moment of silence until Riley can bear it no more, the words falling out of her mouth unbidden.

“Farkle, I really _really_ like you. As in _like_ like you,” Riley blurts.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes before pulling her in for a kiss.

It shouldn’t be great kiss, by all means—they’re both kneeling behind the host stand, the cooler doors open and bottles of wine still waiting to be stocked while a jazzy version of Wonderwall plays in the background. But that doesn’t matter to Riley; she’s with Farkle and they’re _kissing_ and she never wants this moment to end.

It does, though.

 _“Ahem,”_ a voice clears their throat, causing Riley and Farkle to split. She has an _oh shit_ moment when she thinks it might be their manager who’s caught them kissing while on the clock, but then it’s even worse when Riley realizes who it is.

“Oh. Hey, Maya,” Farkle greets her sheepishly, earning him a cackle from Maya.

“This is fantastic! I love being right!” she shouts.

Riley buries her head in Farkle’s shoulder in embarrassment, but she smiles secretly—

She loves that Maya was right, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Based very loosely on my experience as a host at a very popular chain italian restaurant in america (not gonna name it but we all know what it is because when you're here you're family LOL)
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed reading it! Thanks :)


End file.
